


22 missed calls and 15 voicemails

by Lauralis_Ember



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: pilot, what the doctor was up to when Amy & Rory were busy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28836483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralis_Ember/pseuds/Lauralis_Ember
Summary: Eleven wasn't completely alone when Amy and Rory were busy living life. A pilot episode for a companion lost in time.
Kudos: 2





	22 missed calls and 15 voicemails

**Author's Note:**

> I binged all of New Who and now I miss Eleven. Here's a quick short story that may or may not be continued.

22 missed calls and 15 voicemails. 

Shit. 

I rolled over in my soft white bed, pulling the comforter over my head. How long had I been gone this time?

The Doctor said I shouldn’t worry about leaving my cell phone behind. Plus, “time travel, remember?” I could come back the second I left. 

But it never worked out like that. And this time, well… this time we were off by a longshot.

It’s funny. The morning seems ages away when you live in an endless night. 

My phone started vibrating. I opened a bleary eye and answered. 

“Where have you been?” Genevieve’s voice rang loud and clear through the iPhone speakers. I winced as if nursing a bad hangover. 

“It’s been more than a week, Mel,” she continued, rising in pitch. “I’m 99 percent sure you don’t have a job anymore.”

I knew it was coming, but I didn’t expect my heart to drop like it did. 

“Time just… got away from me,” I groaned after mumbling a few apologies. Genevieve made one more point about how irresponsible I was and then announced that she was coming over. 

I heard a knock on the door two seconds later. 

“Yes,” I grumbled through a halo of dark brown hair. My best friend stood in the doorway, lanky arms crossed and looking poised as ever in one of her signature crisp white suits. A bright orange collared shirt popped against her melanin-rich skin. 

“You look like shit,” she mused and she crashed through the doorway and made a beeline for the kitchen. I muttered a sarcastic thanks and closed the door behind her. 

“But please,” she called from the small kitchen in my one-bedroom studio apartment. “Tell me,” she’d already set the kettle to boil-- 

“How someone”-- the cupboards clinked and she grabbed two mismatched mugs--

“Disappears without a trace for an entire week,” a spoonful of sugar, a splash of milk--

“And doesn’t tell their best friend?”  
Apologies started rolling off my tongue, but Genevieve shoved a cup of hot tea in my hands before I could get much farther. 

“I’m just worried about you, Mel,” she sighed, sipping on the piping hot green tea. “Best friends don’t keep secrets, remember?” 

“And I promise I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can,” I chimed. A flood of warmth filled my bones as the tea started to clear my foggy mind. Genevieve tapped a well-manicured finger on the dark oak of the antique table. Already her mind was miles away, thinking about work, or the next call she had to make. Or maybe she was considering the state of my apartment, the fruit flies gathering around a bowl of fruit that I bought ages ago. 

“How’s Jason?” I asked, hoping that my weak explanation was enough. It never was. 

“Who else is here?” she asked suddenly, her eyes narrowed into slits. I gave her one of my famous what-are-you-talking-about looks when she pointed towards the kitchen. 

Sitting on the bar was a steaming hot, freshly-made cup of green tea, cradled in one of the faded ivory mugs that’s had a permanent home in the very back of my cupboard ever since my Aunt Jenny gifted me the drab-looking thing. 

The tap was running in my bathroom. 

I looked at Genevieve, eyes wide. 

“Just needed to freshen up a bit!” 

The door opened with a bang. Out stepped a tall, lanky man, bowtie slightly crooked with an equally crooked grin on his face. His wavy brown hair was wild, suspenders askew, and the sleeves of his collared shirt were rolled up, arms covered in what looked like grease. 

“Though I’m afraid I wasn’t really talking about myself,” the man said, rushing forward to grab the cup of piping hot tea. He flinched--it was too hot-- and set it back down.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Genevieve question was laced with suspicion. 

“Something very, very important,” the Doctor replied. He tried--again--to sip the piping hot tea and thought better of it. 

“Doctor!” I said through gritted teeth. “What are you doing here?” 

“Fixing your sink, of course,” he grinned, tossing his sonic screwdriver from one hand to the next with a flick of his wrist. 

“What’s going on,” Genevieve whispered through clenched teeth. “Mel, you’ve got to tell me what’s happening.”

“In a minute, I swear,” I muttered back. Her voice rose as the Doctor continued muttering to himself about water fixtures and piping hot tea. 

“Everything should work fine now!” he announced, and pointed his sonic at the mug of tea he couldn’t quite seem to drink. The buzzing sound drew my best friend’s attention. 

“What’s he doing to my tea?!” she pronounced, standing up. 

“Doctor!” I said, stern, my mug of tea forgotten. 

“Oh, that’s not good,” he muttered to himself, eyes shifting through the green light of his sonic. I knew that face. “That’s very, very not good.”

I was about to place a hand on his back when the Doctor whirled around and grabbed my arm. 

“Melanie, whatever you do… don’t drink the tea,” his bright blue eyes were intense, blazing with a fire I’d come to know so well. We were suspended in time for a moment as I caught the seriousness of his gaze, a sinking already beginning to well in my stomach. 

“I’m not doing anything until you tell me what the hell is going on,” Genevieve pronounced. She was standing now, poised and proud as ever, a picture-perfect image of a high-profile CEO who knows she’s in charge. A small smile danced on my lips. That’s my Gennie. 

“Oh, hello!” the Doctor called, rushing over to shake my best friend’s hand. “I’m the Doctor! I travel through time and space with Melanie over here, but I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about me already.” 

He was shaking her hand enthusiastically. Genevieve eyes went wide. 

“Your taste in men never ceases to amaze me,” she breathed, giving him a cold, hard stare. 

“You mean… you mean you’ve never told her about me?” the Doctor turned to face me, puppy dog eyes burning into my skull. 

“C’mon Doctor, don’t be like that,” I groaned. “You know how it is…”

“All of time and space and you never even told your best friend about me,” he began pacing, mumbling to himself, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. 

I turned to Genevive, who had crossed her arms and began gathering her things to leave. “So this is your secret,” she murmured, keen on getting out of the way of what she assumed would be a big argument.

“It’s not really like that,” I murmured back. “I can explain, I promise! Everything. All the details.” 

“What? That you’re bedding a crazy man?” she picked up the mug of tea. “Who you sleep with is your business.”

“Please, just stay. No more secrets…” I caught her eye. “I promise.”

“You won’t be going anywhere, anyways,” the Doctor chimed in. It seemed he’d completely forgotten his disappointment from a few moments ago. Genevieve was about to place her hand on the doorknob when she froze. 

“How’s that cup of tea?” 

Her knees buckled. “Gennie!” I called, and rushed to grab her. 

“What’s… what’s happening to me?” she slurred, eyes full of fear. The mug slipped from her hand, green tea splashed across the floor. 

“Doctor, what’s wrong!” I called, frantic. 

“Oh, Genevieve,” he muttered, rushing to my side. “Melanie’s told me a lot about you. And she cares so much. So, so so much. And I’m very, very sorry.” 

“Doctor, please tell me what’s wrong!” My friend was slipping, her eyes closing. 

“I can fix it, I promise,” he said, cupping my face in his hands. “But she’s not the only one who drank the tea.” 

Suddenly the world swam around me, and I was blanketed in a thick layer of darkness.


End file.
